


Gallifreyan Secret Santa

by mogwai_do



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Episode: The Runaway Bride, Gen, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-03
Updated: 2013-01-03
Packaged: 2017-11-23 13:39:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/622781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mogwai_do/pseuds/mogwai_do
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Minister of Defence, Harry Saxon, makes an intriguing discovery while the Rachnos threaten London. 'Tis the season and all that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gallifreyan Secret Santa

"Alex," he purred as the aide shut the door behind him with the quiet care of long practice, "May I call you Alex?"

"Of course, sir," Alex replied.

"So helpful," he murmured, half to himself, as he stood, "so earnest."

The Master crossed to the Prime Minister's aide and laid a gentle hand on his shoulder, learning a thousand things in that one touch, all but one no surprise. "Alex," he repeated softly and smiled as the aide sank obediently to his knees. Much better.

The Master walked back around his desk and flung himself into his chair. He'd been planning this conversation, such as it was, for a while now. He hadn’t expected it to begin with new and altogether intriguing information, but he was nothing if not adaptable.

He had always been good at manipulation, of people, of situations, of whole worlds. He'd been insinuating himself into positions of power when the occupants of this pathetic world still thought it was flat. It might as well be as far as he was concerned, but it was useful, if only as a barb beneath the Doctor’s skin. It was so easy to manipulate such slow-minded creatures, to flatter and bribe and threaten and ultimately to rule. It had been even easier than usual this time, and although he was never likely to ever underestimate his own skills, he knew it hadn’t been anything to do with him.

He'd pondered the problem of the Prime Minister from time to time in his rise to power. Elected by a landslide majority, popular, capable, occasionally ruthless; she was precisely what this world needed at this time. There were a thousand ways to get rid of her, a hundred to do so where he could even do it personally and still come out on top. He'd considered and discarded half of them before he’d come to realise it was entirely unnecessary: all he had to do was wait. It rather took the fun out of it.

But now the Rachnos had turned up when they should have been long extinct and he could feel the Doctor out there too, no doubt running around like a lunatic, like he always did. For all their fearsome reputation, the Rachnos didn’t bother him overly, if the Doctor was dealing with them, as he no doubt was, then the matter was practically closed. But the Master didn't like coincidences, and it was too soon for the Doctor to stumble onto him just because he was busy thwarting some other villainous takeover bid. So now there was a certain urgency to his plans and the Master needed to know.

He glanced over at the television playing on mute in the corner of his office, another political special about the Prime Minister’s possibly failing health. He looked at the Prime Minister’s aide, still kneeling where he’d left him. "Don't you think she looks tired?" he asked with a casual concern he didn’t bother to make sound genuine.

"Yes sir," Alex replied tonelessly.

The Master grinned. He'd entered the corridors of power, begun his ascent, and within a day he'd felt it. It had been subtle, all-pervasive and remarkably simple. It was a thing of such poisonous beauty it could have been his, but it wasn’t. He could still appreciate art when he saw it though.

He had been concerned at first, then gleeful: taking over the Humans was child's play, if there were another species, clearly a telepathic one, trying to do the same, then the game became far more entertaining, if no less inevitable.

He'd slipped into a predatory caution as he had hunted the corridors of power for the spider in the web, watching the viral meme spread throughout the Government, carefully touching the threads occasionally to see who reacted. No-one ever did.

It had been frustrating at first, then baffling: why create such a beautiful piece of work and then leave it to grow unchecked? What was the advantage? He knew why he might have done it himself, destruction for destruction’s sake was an occasional foible of his, but since he would also have stuck around to watch, that hardly seemed likely.

Eventually though, he had been forced to accept that perhaps it really didn't have a purpose save the downfall of one of Humanity’s greatest leaders. It had been a little disappointing really, but it was entirely made up for now by the fact that he had finally found the source, completely by accident, when all his careful searching had failed.

The Master grinned as he looked at the Human kneeling mindlessly at his feet; it was a lovely bit of poetry, making the Prime Minister’s most trusted aide and friend the source of her inevitable downfall, he should have known, it was something he would have done. The poor thing didn’t even know, he was still so very loyal to his mistress; the Master could feel a laugh building at the irony. For a moment he wondered what the aide would do if he realised that he had become the instrument of his mistress's downfall. The Master grinned more widely and spun in his chair, maybe, when he was done, he'd tell him.

But not yet.

The Master walked his chair around until he was in front of the kneeling Human, braced his elbows on his knees and leaned forward. He was a gifted telepath, but something this simple, so low-level as to be barely noticeable even to him, needed a more hands-on approach. He wanted to know just who had done this, partly because he wanted to know if they'd return and partly because he wanted to compliment them on such a beautiful piece of work. Possibly before he killed them.

The Master reached out and touched the Human's face, ignoring the too-hot skin and the faint sound of distress as he began to peel open the aide’s mind. The meme had been easy to implant, he realised, a tiny worm that burrowed deeper and deeper feeding on the aide’s natural concern for his leader. He followed it down, feeling the Human begin to shake at the invasion and ignoring it.

He burrowed deeper still and there it was: that first tiny seed of doubt. Cautiously the Master reached out and touched it, tasted it, and for a long moment he simply sat, almost disbelieving. Then he threw back his head and laughed out loud.

The Human slumped to the floor unconscious as the Master pushed his chair back, spinning it in sheer glee. Simple, elegant, subtle and utterly devastating; thoughtlessly cruel and wonderfully reckless. He should have known.

"Doctor," he crowed joyfully, launching himself to his feet and pacing in restless excitement. Oh, he couldn't _wait_ to tell him. He'd have to save it for a special moment, just the two of them, when there were no Humans for the Doctor to hide behind, no reason to obfuscate or outright lie. He’d know better than to protest his ignorance with the Master and the Master wanted to hear the Doctor admit it – it would sound so sweet.

For whatever reason, and frankly the Master didn’t care why, the Doctor had indulged in something vindictive, nasty and really quite brilliant. He’d wreaked havoc with no thought for the consequences - how very like him. Well, fortunately the Master was good with consequences and he was quite happy to finish the job the Doctor had begun, to make it all nice and neat. It would also, he had to admit, be quite funny to see the Doctor realise that his little bit of impulsive viciousness had actually opened the door for the Master’s takeover.

A flicker of white caught his eye and the Master crossed to the window; the Rachnos ship was lower in the sky now. He narrowed his eyes; it was also weak, crippled, vulnerable. Well, it had taken him long enough. His grin broadened once more; the Doctor had crippled the Rachnos, but stopped short of killing - again. The Master cast a glance over his shoulder at the slumped Human, another of the Doctor’s unfinished works. It was a shame the Doctor hadn’t followed through with either of them, but maybe next time - the Master liked to think himself an optimist. In the meantime though, he was hardly averse to finishing the job. The Master reached out a hand to press the speaker toggle to the line he'd set up earlier.

"Sir?" came the prompt response.

"Fire at will, Commander," the Master ordered, "Blow it out of the sky."

He flipped the toggle off without waiting for an acknowledgement of the order, instead he sat back down in his chair, leaning back and steepling his fingers as he watched tracer fire begin to light up the London sky. It didn’t take long for the ship to begin to disintegrate beneath the Humans’ onslaught and the Master smiled; it burned very prettily in the upper atmosphere.

The Doctor always set them up so beautifully for him, practically gift-wrapped: one might almost think he meant to. It simply wouldn’t be polite not to return the favour and do what the Doctor wouldn’t, especially when the Master enjoyed it so much. He watched the Rachnos ship finally take critical damage and explode in a shower of sparkling dust and grinned, “Happy Christmas to you too, Doctor.”

FIN


End file.
